


Ice Cream

by Lyonface



Series: Prompt Fills and Flash Fiction [6]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Method Blog!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 17:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10391712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyonface/pseuds/Lyonface
Summary: A brief oneshot of Jumin and Saeran after Saeran gets into a fight at a soccer game.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot is set in the same universe that has been set up over at the method Mystic Messenger blogs that my friends and I run where we roleplay together. You can find the Jumin blog [here](http://cr-international-official.tumblr.com/) and the Saeran blog [here](http://saeranwrapped.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> **Warning** that the blogs hint at sexual content and nsfw discussions and only some of them are tagged as such.

Of course he was going to get in trouble, even if it was fucking stupid. Saeran huffed out a cloud of vapor from his e-cig and curled his toes over the stone lip of the large fountain in the complex square, the structure warmed slightly by the overhead sun. He’d never even been to a sporting event of any kind before, much less soccer, and there _had_ to be some jackass being a dick to a little girl and fucking up everything, because that was just the kind of luck he always had. His life had given him an upswing with Jumin, but that didn’t mean the rest of it outside of him wasn’t still shit. At least Jumin had seemed only irritated rather than irate when security had finally pulled Saeran off of the beer-guzzling fuckwit, although between the red anger and adrenaline swimming in his head, it had been a bit hard to tell at the time. At least he’d been patched up before they threw them out, no doubt thanks to Jumin’s influence and persuasion, although it was probably helped by the drunken dickweed having a knife at a public event.

The flap of a blazer as a short gust of wind blew by caught his attention, turning his head from the cigarette in his hand towards the sound. He squinted his eyes and reached back for the bill of his cap and turned it over his head to shield his eyes from the sun, skewing the lay of his bangs and his hair without much care, red hair pulled against his forehead in an assortment of unnatural angles.

Jumin had approached him, wearing a brown, tweed blazer that he typically reserved for the weekends over a striped button up. He was in the process of pocketing his personal phone into his trousers when he noticed Saeran’s expression and shifted his position further away from the sun. His grey eyes rested a moment on the bandage on Saeran’s arm before looking back at his face. Although many would look at Jumin now and only see a stoic, neutral expression, Saeran had known him long enough to know better and learned his micro-expressions. A small turn in of an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth a bit tighter… He was worried. Not angry. Maybe he wouldn’t be punished after all.

With a short exhale, Jumin reached to take Saeran’s hat by the bill as the younger man let go and he pulled it off of his head, fluffing out his hair with the other in a gentle gesture. If he were asked, he would have said it was to fix his hair, but Saeran found it calming and liked when he fussed over him. He let his eyes fall closed, enjoying the touch along his scalp as his skin warmed under the midday sun.

“How is she?”

Saeran blinked, nearly pissed that he’d asked after the girl’s health rather than his, Jumin replacing the hat as he answered. It was lucky for Jumin that Saeran liked it when he petted his hair. “She’s fine. She’s eating ice cream.”

Jumin hummed in answer, angling the bill back like Saeran preferred before dropping his hand to his jaw, and tilting his face to the side to get a better look at the band-aid on his face.

Even if Jumin was worried, Saeran was still a bit anxious. He’d made a scene in public, it was likely recorded, it might be on television. He frowned, the possibility of hurting Jumin's reputation a very real possibility and the anxiety started to bubble up in his gut. No, Jumin would have taken care of that…right?

“Hey, Jumin–”

“Yes?”

He trailed off as Jumin drew his hand away to rest by his side, second-guessing himself. Instead, he crossed his arms and frowned, pressing his hand deliberately against his bandage, making Jumin wince.

“Wish I had some icecream…” he said instead, intentionally pitching his voice slightly.

He received a quirked eyebrow for his effortless feign. “Where did you see her get one?”

His frown turned into a smile, the question being enough of an answer of acceptance for him. His heels scraped against the edge of the fountain as he stood up beside his tennis shoes and grabbed his hand to tug him in the direction where the little girl had been, red around the eyes but otherwise happily enjoying an ice cream pop.

Jumin's heavy stance halted him in his tracks. “Put your shoes on.”

Saeran huffed and turned back around, giving him an unapologetically annoyed pout. Meeting the taller man's steady and unwavering gaze, he acquiesced and stooped down, wincing at the wound on his knee as he did. Jumin took his hand from Saeran’s grasp and put it on his shoulder instead, forcing him to sit back down on the fountain and taking his shoes. Carefully, once Saeran was settled down, he slipped his shoes on, his right then his left, taking the tongue and heel to secure them on his feet. Afterward he pushed himself to his feet, brushing his hands off.

Amused by the whole display, Saeran's grin quirked in a snide way, ignoring the pain it caused on his cheek. “Not gonna tie them for me, Mr. Han?” Saeran asked in a sing-song voice, teasing.

That quirked eyebrow again. “I think you can manage that on your own.”

He frowned again. Interpreting his expression as defiance, Jumin added, “If you prefer, we can go straight home.”

He scowled slightly, hearing the threat loud and clear. He thought back to the reason he was patched up as he pulled one foot up to the edge of the fountain to tie it. “What about that fuckface?”

He barely noticed Jumin's jacket bunch up from putting his hands in his pockets. “He’s taken care of.”

Saeran sighed and quickly tied his shoelaces, much preferring to delay the inevitable and do as he was suggested. When he finished, he stood beside Jumin then and gestured with his good arm off to the side. Some ways away was a small ice cream stand, closer toward the street than the building behind them.

Jumin nodded, “Let’s go.” And then, “Mint?"

Saeran grinned and started off toward the little stand, walking along beside him again. “What else would I get?”

As they made their way across the stone tiles decorating the flooring around the fountain area, Jumin glanced down at Saeran again. He smiled slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and retrieving his wallet as he did. "That bandage on your face makes you look like a rapper or something."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes even as his cheeks colored with embarrassment, though he wasn't sure if it was for himself or for Jumin's comment. "Idiot..."

Jumin's grin simply grew wider.

\---

[Relevant fanart.](http://thelyonface.tumblr.com/post/157910862823/sometimes-i-think-i-love-saeran-choi-more-than-i)

[Original post.](http://thelyonface.tumblr.com/post/158642870053/writing-prompt-dialogue)


End file.
